


College Kid

by AceFace98



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Freeform, Gen, I Don't Even Know, One Shot, Stan needs to stop thinking little of himself, Swearing, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceFace98/pseuds/AceFace98
Summary: Sherman Pines probably should've been the one to get the college fund. Maybe then none of this mess would've happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I woke up this morning and had, like, a smack to the face with this story??   
> OK, bit of explanation: basically, my dad grew up in kind of sort of the same era as the elder Pine twins. And one day he's talking to me about college and he mentioned that in his family only one kid got to go to college. He looks me in the eye and says it should've been his younger sister who got to go, and not his brother, even though his brother was the "gifted" kid in their family.  
> That kind of translated really easily into this, and I was inspired ^^   
> This is pretty much just a one-shot, but it's also kind of my head canon about Sherman Pines. I know that it's technically canon that Shermie is the baby in a Tale-Of-Two-Stans, but for this I have it that he's the older brother and the baby is Sherman's kid.   
> Hope you enjoy ^^!!

Sherman Pines should’ve been the one to go to college. Sure, Stanford was the “smart” Pines, but Shermie had  _ always _ been the one with the plan. Always been the one to know what he wanted, and always knew what to aim for. He had this idea of a middle class life, with a cute wife and a small family, and honestly it was all so stupidly simple that it’d make Stanley smile every time his older brother talked about it.

Just more thing Stanley wrecked. When Stanford failed to get that  _ all important  _ scholarship, their parents had to pay for him to go to Backupsmore University. Sure, Stanford had earned  _ some _ scholarships during his time there, but anything sort of a free ride meant Stanford had to take the college fund.

_ The _ college fund. Only one Pines kid got to go to college, after all. College was still a fairly new idea for middle class families, and in this day and age you only really needed your high school diploma to get anywhere. It was a luxury, so they saved up enough for one kid to go. The other kids could always go to trade school, or could stay in the pawn shop. 

Or get kicked out. But that was neither here nor there. The point was, if Stanford Pines hadn’t needed to touch that money, if Stanley Pines hadn’t messed up his brother’s full ride opportunity, if Sherman Pines had gotten the college fund like he was  _ suppose _ to, then Stanley wouldn’t be  _ here _ , waiting for a giant upside-down piece of shit triangle to give him back his brother.

He really couldn’t help but contemplate it. Sherman had been the only one he really kept in touch with after he was kicked to the curb - only one he really  _ could _ keep in touch with, even with his constantly changing address - and he knew that his older brother never made a fuss about how the college fund was spent. Stanford had always been the one with the  _ dreams _ , he’d argue, saying he was fine with going to trade school, that he was fine with staying in the pawn shop. 

Shermie  _ wasn’t _ fine. Stanley knew this like fact, could tell in the few scattered letters he received over the ten years he’d been away. Stanley had even known this before he’d gotten kicked out; why else would Sherm even risk knocking up a girl? A dad before he was done with high school, married before he could legally drink.

And then the whole joining the Air Force thing, as if to get as far away from his new family as possible. Well, maybe he wasn’t getting away from his  _ new _ family, as Julia and the baby followed him onto base. Maybe he was trying to get away from the old one.

Though, Stanley had to give his brother credit; he did  _ try _ . He tried a lot harder than Stanley’s parents did, than Stanford ever did. He sent letters after Stanley, even when his address changed much more than the clothes he wore. The only problem was Stanley never knew how to respond, so he usually just didn’t. So, eventually, Shermie stopped sending the letters.

And then, after ten years in the service, Sherm left a promising career and just ... settled. In California, no less. Almost as if he been able to sense Stanford’s disappearance. But Sherman always had a thing about timing. It had always been more than a little spooky to Stanley, to be perfectly honest.

For example: the night before Stanley went out to fake his death, Stanford got a call. Stanford never got calls. Stanley hadn’t even bothered to take the phone out. So he was so completely thrown that he actually answered.

“Stanford?” Sherman’s ever calm voice asked over the line.

“Er,” Stanley had become fairly used to being called by his brother’s name, but he hadn’t been expecting  _ this _ . He hadn’t talked to any of his family in years, and all of the communication he  _ had _ kept had been through letters. “Who’s this?”

OK, probably not the smoothest answer he could come up with, but he was suddenly  _ very _ on edge. 

There was a sigh over the line, like Shermie had expected this kind of answer. “It’s me, Sherman. Your older brother?”

“Oh.” Stanley said, his palms coated in sweat. “Hello, Shermie.”

“Hello Stanford.” Sherman said, and Stanley could practically hear a smile in his voice. “Listen, I just wanted to call and remind you that Alexander’s birthday is in a few days. He’ll be twelve, and the wife and I want to throw a proper party for him, you know? It ... I’d think it’d mean the world if you could make it.”

Sherman took a breath, and before Stanley could answer he continued. “I’m also going to try to invite Stanley, just so you know. Have the whole family together, or at least try to.”

“Stanley?” Stan asked, unable to help himself.

“Please don’t start.” Shermie quickly said. “I don’t need to hear more about what a deadbeat he is, OK? Personally, I think you need to just let that whole thing go. I mean, you two haven’t spoken in a decade. Stanley isn’t the same person you remember.”

Stanley felt his breath catch, taking a shaky look over to the staircase that lead to the basement. If only Stanford could’ve had this conversation just a few years before now, maybe things would’ve been different.

“Just,” Sherman continued. He sounded tired. “Try to visit, OK? It’d mean the world to Alexander, poor tyke hasn’t seen you in years.”

Stanley felt himself melting. Despite how bad of an idea it probably was, he heard himself saying. “OK. When’s the party?”

He jotted down the date and time, as well as Shermie’s new address. He knew he wasn’t going to go, he was going to be busy faking his own death and frankly the thought of trying to drive after that was giving him weird waves of nausea. But he could pretend he would be going, and when the party came he could pretend that his “brother’s” death had disturbed him too much and he was staying home.

After that, though, Sherman didn’t call again. There were no more party invites, no attempts at just calling to say hello, there was absolutely nothing. Stanley was starting to really regret it, thinking to himself that maybe he had messed that whole situation up. That he'd finally driven his older brother away.

But, well, no, that wasn’t the case at all. A few days after Alexander’s twelfth birthday, Stanley’s older brother had gotten hit by a drunk driver. He had died on impact.

It wasn’t until a few years later that Stanley heard the news. He had gotten a call from Sherman’s very drunk wife on the anniversary of his death, screaming about how he was an asshole who never cared about his family. 

Well, he knew that she was aiming it all at Stanford, but Stanley couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it himself. 

Sherman Pines should’ve been the one to go to college. Not Stanford, and  _ certainly _ not Stanley. Sherman Pines had been the only one with any sense, and he’d only lost it when his potential had been passed down to his younger sibling. Even  _ then _ , Sherman had managed to be a great husband and a great dad. Heck, he had even served his country, doing something Stanley had always been too much of a coward to think about trying.

Stanley kept a bit more in touch with Julia after that, trying to be a bit more, you know,  _ there _ for her and her kid. When Alex finally married, Stanley stopped business for the week and drove out to be there.

He never bothered to fake the whole six-finger thing. He honestly had contemplating coming clean to his brother’s family, explaining that he was actually Stanley Pines and not Stanford. But, surprisingly, he didn’t get the chance. Julia never reacted to his hands, never said anything like  _ I thought Stanford had six fingers _ or  _ What loose the polydactyly status? _

He figured it out before long. Sherman never talked about the six-finger thing. In fact, according to Julia, Sherman barely talked about Stanford at all. 

Stanley was able to act like the five finger thing was completely normal. He, honestly, felt very weird about that.

Still, though, it only made it easier to keep in touch with Julia and Alex. So when the twins were born, Stanley was notified. He got in his car and drove out of California in a odd stew of emotions, uncertainty filling him with the thought of the newest Pines twins. 

He got to meet Sherman’s grandkids when Sherman himself wouldn’t get to. That part was the real kicker, the real downer of the whole deal. It was an notion that followed him around like a omen, poking and prodding at him just when he thought he was done feeling bad about his brother’s death. 

It was what he was thinking about when Alex’s wife, Eliza, called him one day and asked if he would want to house the twins for the summer. It was probably that thought that had defined his answer, to be perfectly honest.

He tried to justify it. Sure, Gravity Falls was a fairly dangerous place, but it was only the  _ one _ summer. And sure, he was still trying to get the portal working, but he didn’t see why fooling two twelve year olds would be much harder than fooling the entire town. And  _ sure _ his job wasn’t all that normal, but kids loved fake supernatural stuff, right?

It all kind of came back to the fact that Sherman Pines should’ve been the one to go to college, really. If he had, then maybe none of this would’ve happened. He’d still be alive, working as a CEO somewhere. Stanford would still be here, probably getting a degree through a different full ride scholarship and not that Tech Bullshit School. 

And Stanley. Well Stanley would’ve done something with his life. Probably. Maybe he’d still be in Jersey, working at the pawn shop. Getting to be a proper uncle to Alex and teaching the kid all kinds of stuff his father would later smack him for. 

Everything would’ve ended a lot better. But there was no changing it, so Stanley just made the best of it. 


End file.
